Page 161 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

Sava ripped the cuff free with more efficiency than gentleness. “You are both going to listen to me now.”

Cassie looked at her. “Do we have a choice?”

“No.”

“Refreshing.”

Sava ignored that. “Get through tonight. That is the plan. Not forever. Not the full moon. Not what the council wants next or what Ronan thinks next or what either of you have decided this means next. Tonight. Survive the hunt first, then we worry about the next next.”

Cassie frowned. “The next next?”

“Yes. The next problem after the immediate death problem.”

“That is horrible terminology.”

“It is accurate.”

Sava looked at me. “You do not get to solve the full moon today. You do not get to kill every possible threat before sunset, though I can see you considering it. You focus on the course, the hunters, her limits, and your control.”

Then she looked at Cassie. “You eat. You hydrate. You tell me when something hurts, and you do not treat pain like a personal failing.”

Cassie opened her mouth.

Sava lifted one finger. “If you argue, I will bring back Ronan.”

Cassie closed her mouth.

“Excellent,” Sava said. “Progress.”

The five minutes lasted almost eight.

Ronan returned with Lucien, a tray of food, and the expression of a man who had spent his absence deciding which emotions were least useful and burying all of them alive.

Lucien, mercifully, didn’t look at the bed.

He set the tray on the table. “Breakfast.”

Cassie looked at the covered dishes. “If there’s no coffee, I’m defecting to Evelyn.”

“There is coffee,” Lucien said with a small smile.

“You may live.”

He inclined his head. “A relief.”

Ronan remained near the door. “We have until moonrise. The council witnesses arrive at dusk. The course opens one hour after that.”

Cassie picked up the coffee with both hands. “And the other hunters?”

Ronan’s eyes cut to me. I didn’t look away.

Cassie took a sip. “Don’t bother glaring at him. I asked. He answered. It was very novel.”

Lucien, wisely, looked at the tray.

Ronan exhaled through his nose. “Three challenge wolves.”

“Names,” I said.